


Five Times Danny Healed With Touch (and One Time Matt Didn't Let Him)

by heartstarmagick



Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Fist (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Gentle Affection, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Massage, Morning After, Oral Sex, special cameo by luke cage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 08:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10356543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartstarmagick/pseuds/heartstarmagick
Summary: Danny heals. Matt seems to constantly be in need of healing. Touch starvation is a powerful force, though it is certainly not the only force at play between them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have such a weakness for sad boys. No Iron Fist spoilers. For my lovely, lovely rp partner who plays a sublime Danny and got me shipping this in the first place ♥ ♥ ♥

I

Laying on the concrete, he’s hurt fucking _badly_ and he’s too preoccupied by flashbacks to nine years old to properly scream. Luckily, Luke was keeping an eye on him.

 

Luke called out to Danny for help when Matt was laying, voiceless.

 

Danny was there in an instant. They were still relatively new with each other and that coupled with Matt’s complete aversion to touch from people he didn’t know, he had never been privy to receiving Danny’s healing Chi, which is of course why Luke called him. “He’s hurt.”

 

Nodding, Danny crouched down, “I’m gonna touch you, is that okay?”

 

Matt nodded. Danny lay his hands over Matt, over cuts and bruises and a possible concussion. Matt’s too preoccupied to register what the feelings are, what it’s really like. He’s hearing sirens and sweating and just like that he’s back on planet Earth feeling like he can breathe again, his savior hovering over him with magic hands.

 

“Thanks, man.”

 

Danny flashes a big smile that Matt can hear in his voice, “Anytime, man, that’s what I’m here for.”

 

II

Danny’s stronger than he looks. He basically carries Matt back to his apartment. “Thank you,” Matt gasps, blood—blood everywhere; dripping from his head, wounds on his chest and his sides. He hurts and he’s grateful he’s not having to carry himself.

 

God help them, they make it to Matt’s apartment in one piece (mostly.) Danny lays Matt on the couch and Matt finds himself laughing as he’s peeling off his soaked suit, sticky and reeking of his own blood. A quip about Matt not knowing how to stay out of trouble dies on Danny’s lips. Instead he simply closes his eyes and gets to work.

 

While Danny had helped him like this before, he hadn’t been in the moment enough to really _feel_  it. His skin, mending; his blood, flowing back into place and most importantly, Danny’s life-force—the very essence of this man—flowing through him and righting all his wrongs. It felt good. Matt could have moaned, could have kissed him even. “Danny…” he breathed.

 

“Y’okay?”

 

Matt broke out of his daze, “Yeah. Yeah. So good. Thank you.”

 

“Just about done,” he smiled, reaching up to his head. One hand kept working while the other cradled his face, wiping away the blood.

 

III

They’re standing in Matt’s kitchen. Matt’s depression isn’t just rearing its ugly head, it’s thoroughly _kicking his ass_  and Danny has become the number on Matt’s contacts list that he calls when he’s at his worst. Danny makes sure he eats and keeps him company. Matt’s steeping a cup of tea (he drinks a lot more tea with the other man around) and they share comfortable silence until Matt speaks. “Your hands, the Chi…” He clears his throat, taking one of Danny’s hands and resting it over his heart.

 

_“Would it work here?”_

 

IV

Danny comes to visit Matt’s office as the lawyer’s busy with a case. He sits, meditating and listening to his music for a while before looking at Matt, _really_  looking at him and noting all his tension and how tired he looks (given away by the bags under his eyes—he never wears his glasses around Danny.)

 

Being the restless soul he is, he gets up and crosses behind Matt, putting his hands on his shoulders and begins to massage them. At first he’s gentle but as Matt relaxes and encourages more, he lets himself get a little rougher. Eventually he moves to the back of his neck, the sides of his head.

 

“You’re perfect, Danny.”

 

“Not so sure about that.”

 

“Your hands at any rate.” Matt would have argued that most of Danny was perfect but he isn’t sure they were quite there yet and he doesn’t want to ruin this. “You always make me feel better.”

 

“Good,” Danny answers softly, “that’s what I’m here for.”

 

V

They’re drunk—or, okay, _Matt’s_  drunk—and Danny’s amused by his lover’s shenanigans until Matt begins to look very pensive and gives Danny a sad smile as he strokes his cheek, “Do your magic hands fix scars?”

 

In all the time Danny had known him, Matt was never ashamed of any of the scars he bore (at least not around him.) “I mean, I can give it a try but usually not so much.”

 

Off comes Matt’s shirt and down go sweatpants and boxer-briefs. He lays on the couch, taking Danny’s hands and placing them over his hips where burn scars lay, with a small shudder. Danny rubs over them softly, wanting to know who did this to him as they were clearly done intentionally in a way that makes Danny feel sick until he looks at Matt’s face and finds the answer.

 

“They’re old,” Matt says softly as he can practically feel the pity blooming within Danny’s chest.

 

Danny wants to make Matt promise not to hurt his body like this ever again but he swallows it, as Matt seems to be feeling enough guilt as is. He kisses Matt’s belly, letting the Chi course through his fingertips, “You were trying,” he murmurs, “you’re coming so far.”

 

Matt moans out loud at the feeling of the very essence of Danny Rand coursing through him starting from such a sensitive area. It makes him want to get _closer_  to this man who never makes him feel like he or his problems are a burden, “Danny…” he groans, sadnesses seemingly forgotten.

 

Danny feels something stirring beneath his chin and smiles, “Well, look who woke up.” He places another kiss, this time alongside his hip. “Do you always get this hard when I’m doing this?”

 

“Depends,” it comes out like a breathy gasp, “I just feel so close to you, I—I can’t get enough.”

 

Danny thinks about making him wait but decides that would be cruel, leaning down and taking Matt into his mouth. Matt practically screams because the combined sensations feel so _good_. Danny’s name is whispered and gasped and groaned over and over though each time it leaves him, it’s no less reverent.

 

When Matt finishes, he’s pretty sure he sees God.

 

\+ I

Matt wakes up, his entire body racked with the soreness of a night well done. He takes mental note—hickies all over his neck and chest (he practically shivers remembering all the growls of ‘you’re _mine_ ’), his back aching from the aftermath of seemingly-infinite stamina, and fingertip shaped bruises along his hips.

 

He groans softly, smiling.

 

Danny wakes beside him, reaching and petting his hair, “Morning.”

 

Matt smiles, kissing him good morning. “I’m still sore from last night.”

 

“You look a little worse for wear,” he smiles, “I can give you a hand with that?”

 

Matt shakes his head, also smiling, “This is the one pain I like. Makes it feel real.”


End file.
